


Better To Find Out For Yourself

by mrgay



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Drinking, Gay Bar, M/M, Smoking, Trans Male Character, fujiko and jigen being catty, surfing goemon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22892140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrgay/pseuds/mrgay
Summary: Jigen rolled on his side, arms crossed, cigarette bent and between his lips, "I never get any freakin’ privacy when I’m travelling with these two," he thought.
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke/Zenigata Kouichi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> partially inspired by @TheTemporaryDysphoria's fic in which jigen picks up zenigata in a bar. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/22525978)
> 
> i'm so desperate for content of these two kings i'm out here in the fields harvesting my own crops.
> 
> it will be explicit at some point lol

“You can’t just sit on the couch smoking all day!”

“I can, actually, and check this out.” Jigen swung one leg over the arm of the couch, resembling a particularly relaxed–if mangy–cat. He tilted his head up, the brim of his hat momentarily revealing his eyes; making eye contact with Fujiko. He blew a plume of smoke in her direction. 

“God, you’re such a fucking brat,” Fujiko placed a manicured hand on one hip, boredly waving the smoke away from her, “you make Lupin look mature.”

Jigen grinned, eyes disappearing beneath the brim again, he plucked the cigarette from between his lips and rolled it between two fingers, “Yeah, well, no one asked you to come in here and gawk at me. Don’t you have some diamonds to stare at?”

Fujiko rolled her eyes, and walked over into the kitchen, Jigen heard the creak of the fridge opening.

Jigen rolled on his side, arms crossed, cigarette bent and between his lips, _ I never get any freakin’ privacy when I’m travelling with these two. _

“Lupin, did you get the reservation?” Fujiko called from inside the kitchen.

Jigen puffed smoke out his nostrils as his eyes suddenly rested upon the empty spot on the coffee table his gun was supposed to be occupying.

“Where’s my–Fujiko!” He bolted up from the couch and stomped into the kitchen; Fujiko was leaning against the fridge, his Magnum in one hand, stuffed olive in the other.

“Damn, security blanket much?” She popped the olive in her mouth, not bothering to quietly or with her mouth closed. Jigen made a lunge for his unloaded Magnum, but the thief was ready for him and jerked her hand away, holding his gun high above her head.

Fujiko noticeably taller than the gunman, especially in the six inch heels she was currently wearing (Jigen hated it when she wore her shoes indoors). Jigen jumped, attempting to swipe it from her hand held high, but was unsuccessful.

“Who’s the brat now?” he huffed, trying to grab her arm.

“Aww, I love to see you two getting along!” Lupin had walked into the kitchen, he was in his boxers and half of his upper lip and chin was covered in shaving cream. 

Turning his head to see Lupin enter, Jigen momentarily dropped his guard, and Fujiko took the opportunity to swing an arm around his neck and pull him into a headlock. She pushed his Magnum down the back of his slacks, the barrel poking his ass cheek bluntly.

“Fuck you,” he grunted, retrieving his Magnum, Fujiko let him go and stuck her tongue at him.

“Alright! This is all great stuff,” Lupin chirped, clapping his hands together, “Fujiko, I got the reservation, it’s for seven thirty.”

“What’s this?” Jigen cocked an eye in Lupin’s direction.

“Fujiko-chan and I have a date tonight.”

“I thought we were gonna–” Jigen huffed as his partner gave Fujiko a playful pinch on the hip, who reciprocated by snapping the waistband of his boxers, “–see a movie, or somethin’, I dunno.” Fujiko raised an eyebrow; Jigen knew he’d lost this one. He fiddled with the action on his Magnum as Fujiko led Lupin back into the bedroom.

“Guess you’ll have to hang out with Goemon,” Fujiko called.

“He’s still surfing in Miami.”

“Oh, too bad,” her voice was steeped in feigned concern from the other room, “you’ll just have to entertain yourself.”

+++

_ Oh for fuck’s sake. _ He struggled to light a cigarette; he couldn’t get his lighter at an angle where the wind wouldn’t snuff it out. Of course it was a night like this when he had to be out of the apartment so Fujiko and Lupin could fuck, _ I’m like a college roommate. _ Not that he cared that they did–Jigen always got his fair share of Lupin in bed–but the two of them could get so irritating when they didn’t have Goemon around to balance out their two O blood type personalities.

He flicked his lighter again, producing a weak flash of flame before it was quickly stifled by a gust of wind. Grunting, he dragged himself off of the bus stop bench and began walking down the block, away from the apartment.

_ Best to stay out of sight, _even though they were just passing through the city, they were still criminals, and there was no telling what sort of fellow–police or mob-related–would notice him; he stuck to the side streets. With his cigarette lit, finally, he trudged along the cobblestone sidewalk aimlessly. Usually, Goemon would be here in times like this, and they would occupy themselves somehow by seeking out the local attractions. They’d find secret bars, bowling alleys, and hole up there for hours, drinking and enjoying each other’s company. Not tonight. He flicked his spent cigarette butt onto the sidewalk, crushing it under his heel.

“The Junction” read one sign, in bright blue bubble lettering. Several men were outside, talking and having a smoke. _ Gay bar, _he thought, giving the men the once-over as he approached. They were nicely dressed; tightly fitted black t-shirts seemed to be very in-vogue for men around these parts, Jigen had noticed. The heavier man of the bunch was easy on the eyes: most of them seemed quite young, but he seemed to be in his 30s–well manicured, well kept beard, tight coily hair, dark skin. Him and his friends finished their smokes and headed back inside.

Jigen stood on the sidewalk, feeling adrift.

_Oh, what the hell. _Tipping his hat forward, over his eyes, he strode over to the door.

The first thing Jigen noticed was how young they were. He leant against a table, drink in hand, glancing onto the dance floor. He and the man he gave the once-over outside seemed to be outliers; the average age of men at this gay bar was definitely in the low 20s. Now pushing 40, Jigen felt a twinge of sheepishness creep up his spine. _ I’m much too old for this. _ Most of them looked like cherubic college students, with impeccably clean sneakers and well ironed t-shirts, not to mention the music was… incomprehensible to the gunman. _ What am I doing? _ Jigen knocked back the rest of his double whiskey ginger. He was no stranger to gay bars, but it had certainly been a minute, and the type of bars he used to frequent were definitely… rougher than this place. His eyes suddenly drifted over to the dance floor, locking on to the older guy he saw outside. He had his hands clutching the hips of a much younger, skinnier man. Their lips were locked together, kissing with surprising vigor. Jigen sighed, _ All right, one more drink and I’m outta here. _

+++

While nursing his second drink, Jigen continued to watch the two of them. Not for any perverse reason; he was so bored at this point he had been reduced to people watching. The two men continued to dance and make out, though now they were talking. One would lean in close to the other, cup a hand around their ear, and shout something over the pounding bass, then the other would reply and do the same. Jigen’s interest was slipping.

The younger man locked eyes with Jigen. He’d shifted his attention from the man he was dancing with, staring over his shoulder. The younger man’s jaw slackened into a campy expression of awe, and mouthed the word, “daddy”.

_ Me? _ Jigen choked on the saliva in his mouth. Hurriedly shifting his gaze to the glass in his hand, the floor, _ anything. _

Heat flushing straight to his armpits, he began to sweat. _ Am I…? _

_ Wait a second. _

He wasn’t looking at him. The young man’s eyes seemed to be looking through him. Jigen turned, looking behind him at the bar.

_ Oh. _

The kid was talking about the large man sitting at the bar, his long legs akimbo, the lapels to his trenchcoat turned up; Jigen didn’t need to see his face to know who he was.

The man sitting at the bar was Zenigata.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jigen is bored, and being in a gay bar teeming with men who are too young for him and who are all having a great time is certainly making a case for doing something stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please forgive me for changing tenses from the first chapter but i couldn't stand writing in the past tense anymore hahahah.

The hairs on the back of Jigen’s neck stand straight up, anticipating an adrenaline rush that would cause him to flee. _What is HE doing here?_ His lizard brain scrambles to make up its mind about fight or flight while his feet are cemented to the floor. He leans suddenly to the left like a strand of bull kelp, looking. Zenigata still hasn’t seen him yet; his attention is drawn down to the tall glass in his hand. He could still run. He begins sidestepping slowly, in the direction of the door. _Why haven’t I run yet? _Jigen can see the back three-quarters of Zenigata’s head: nursing a pint, and by the looks of it, not his first. The inspector’s shoulders are slouched, and his center of gravity is hunched forward onto the worn wood of the bar.

_ Poor guy. _ Jigen pauses, accidentally allowing a sympathetic thought to sneak through the cranky labyrinth of his consciousness. _ What, so now I feel bad for this cop who’s constantly trying to lock us up? _Jigen can see past the inspector’s impressively broad shoulders. Zenigata is still staring into his half-drank glass of beer. Okay, he does feel a pang of pity for the guy. Chasing a gang of criminals all over the world by yourself must get a bit lonely sometimes. 

_ Reminds me of how I was before I got into this business. _ Oh, now he was being a straight up sap, projecting his own feelings onto the inspector. _ Nights were so long and boring, I used to buy the cheapest twelve pack of watery piss lager and find some big dumb horny biker to ‘hang out’ with. _ Jigen is fixated on Zenigata’s huge, hairy, mitt-like hands gripping the beer glass. _ He must be bummed out there’s been no sign of us anywhere for months. _

Jigen is bored, and being in a gay bar teeming with men who are too young for him and who are all having a great time is certainly making a case for doing something stupid. _ Oh, hell, this is so embarrassing. _

Empty glass in hand, he takes his most charismatic step towards the bar. Clunking his glass on the cheap wood, he tips the brim of his hat up slightly, attempting to muster up a mature homosexual swagger he has not used in over a decade. “Can I get 2 glasses, neat, of your best proof of whiskey?” The bartender looks up at him sharply, and so does Zenigata, dragging his stare up from the bottom of his glass. The gesture is accented with a plink of an ice cube in an empty cup. Jigen keeps his eyes fixed on the bartender. He’s in his mid 20s, stud on the right earlobe, perfectly trimmed blond stubble, and wearing a shockingly tight black t-shirt. With barely a pause he begins to fill a glass with soda water while replying, “We only have one type of whiskey and it’s the exact same stuff you’ve been drinking all night.” He speaks in a barely interested drawl.

Zenigata chokes on a sip of his beer. “J-Ji...Jige–”

Jigen splutters, his facade crumbling. “Oh, uhh, okay, just that stuff then.”

“JIGEN!”

The bartender turns around wordlessly and plucks a bottle off the shelf behind him.

Zenigata is standing up now. One hand has left the comfort of his beer glass and is reaching to grab Jigen’s shoulder.

“Pops, hold on a second.” Jigen shrinks away suddenly like a skittish cat.

“Why should I?”

“Can’t I buy a man a drink?”

Zenigata jerks his hand away, but then folds his arms over his chest indignantly. His tie is slightly loose, another indicator of his bad mood. “Lupin must be somewhere nearby, what are you two up to?”

Zenigata glares at the shorter man. Behind him, the bartender, only a little bit interested, begins to pour the first glass of whiskey, eyes looking up from under heavy lids.

“I’m completely alone, pops! Come on, you’ve already cased this joint, haven’t you?” 

Zenigata huffs.

“Don’t be like that, you’d know by now.”

The inspector’s posture relaxes slightly. “You’d better hope you’re not lying,” he glowers, sliding back onto the barstool. The gunman grins, also taking a seat and sliding a cigarette between his lips, feeling the dry end stick to the wet tip of his tongue for a moment.

The bartender slides two whiskeys over the bar to them and Zenigata, to Jigen’s surprise, knocks it back in one gulp. Jigen cocks the unlit cigarette between his lips in Zenigata’s direction, giving him his best side-eye.

Zenigata pretends not to notice, and wipes a finger around the lip of the glass. He doesn’t make eye contact. “What.”

Jigen smiles. He’s enjoying this. He knows Zenigata has a soft spot for him and Lupin’s bratty antics. Winding him up like this is always the highlight of any good heist.

Grumbling, Zenigata produces his chrome ICPO-issued lighter from the breast pocket of his suit jacket. The flame flickers once before lighting, and he brings it up to the end of Jigen’s cigarette.

“Thank you, Pops,” Jigen emphasizes the sibilance. He takes a long drag in, the end of his cigarette yawning bright red, and a comforting burning sensation returns to his lungs.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

“You’re just being a good public servant.” Jigen knows he might be pushing his luck.

“I oughta have you tied up in a holding cell right now,” he growls, grinding his teeth. _ What a ham. _

“Oh? You’d like to tie me up, would you?” Jigen says darkly, continuing to prod the ‘angry’ bull next to him. He takes his chance and cheekily blows a mouthful of smoke out the corner of his mouth in Zenigata’s direction.

Zenigata’s hands twitch, but his expression remains unchanged. For a split moment Jigen worries he might have prodded him one too many times, but the inspector brings a hand up to Jigen’s cigarette and plucks it out of his mouth, placing the damp end into his own. He looks down his nose at Jigen triumphantly and grimaces. It’s an almost immature display of confidence for a man of his age and title, but Jigen feels a flush quickly rise in his cheeks as he realizes, _ Zenigata’s exactly the type of guy I used to hook up with before Lupin... _

And he couldn’t take that thought back.

The smoke billows from Zenigata as he parts his lips in an ‘o’ shaped exhale. He looks a lot older all of a sudden, “I’m drunk,” he states, “so this next part will sound stupid.” He’s not looking at Jigen, caught in a brief moment of clarity. “I’m honestly a little disappointed you and Lupin weren’t up to something.”

Jigen places a new cigarette in his mouth. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind being up to something.” He tries to shoot a ‘look’ at Zenigata, but the inspector is looking down at his glass again.

Zenigata worries his brow a bit. Jigen can tell he’s softened to him being here now. “Lupin really is the center of our universes, huh?”

Jigen reaches a hand over to Zenigata, who watches, half surprised, as the gunman slips the shoulder of his trenchcoat off, and slides his hand into the inspector’s breast pocket, feeling his fingers touch the cool steel of the ICPO branded lighter. He lights his cigarette, cheeks hollowing a little as he takes a deep drag inwards. Eyes locked on each other.

_ This is… Hm. _He’s not sure.

Their eye contact breaks as Jigen puts the lighter back where he found it.

“How did you meet?”

“Hm?” Jigen mumbles, meeting Zenigata’s gaze again. He has lovely brown eyes.

“You and Lupin, I mean.” His eyelashes are so long, he looks almost doe-eyed.

Jigen smiles, and leans towards him, the tip of his glowing cigarette mere inches from the inspector’s nose. “You wanna know? Off the record?”

He hopes the inspector can feel the heat from him.

“Oh I–I mean… Uh, I’m not trying to be a cop right now–” Zenigata’s voice is low but still squeaks a bit as Jigen cuts him off.

“–I’m joking.” Jigen winks, and he can swear he sees the tiniest bit of sweat beading at the highest peak of Zenigata’s hairline. “I was involved–or rather, hired–to be the bodyguard of a decently well known yakuza chairman in Sapporo. I’ll spare you the, uh, details of what sort of stuff I got up to.”

He taps some of the ash off the end of his cigarette and realizes Zenigata is in the midst of snuffing his out. His hand briefly brushes against Zenigata’s. He ignores it.

“It’s funny, it actually wasn’t what you’d imagine in a movie. The clan I worked for was in a dispute to acquire a very attractive piece of land within Sapporo which, ironically, turned out to be owned by Arsène Lupin the first. I was sort of a contract worker to them. A person you’d ask to… dispose of people.”

Zenigata winced, clearly trying hard to not go into full cop mode.

“Hey! You asked.”

“No, no. Sorry, go on.”

“So they wanted me to… rough Lupin up a little. Scare him, so he’d sign over the deed to them. I had heard Lupin’s name mentioned before, but like the chairman, I didn’t consider him a threat because he was a thief. Yazuka don’t do petty crime, and all that.”

“I’m aware.”

Jigen sighs. “We had a total stalemate, of course. Lupin knew who I was instantly, and offered me twice what the yakuza were paying me to essentially be spirited away by him to a life of thievery. I was so sick of being a hitman, so I disappeared.”

“Did anything happen with you and the chairman after you left?” Zenigata voice is tinged with genuine interest. He has his chin resting in his hand like a kid. _ Cute. _

“We had a lot of guys come after us for quite some time after that…” He lets the end of his sentence trail off. “We–ah–_ dealt _ with it.”

Zenigata looks at him seriously.

“You wanted to know!”

The inspector flings his hands up defensively. “Alright, alright.”

They lapse into silence for a second. Then Zenigata speaks again.

“Do you wanna go somewhere else?”


End file.
